02-21-2018, 05:54 PM
Hundreds of miles away, Katriel watches the flames devour the invitation. It burns quickly and with too much smoke, as low-quality paper so often does. The light of the flame reflects off the pale marble of the fireplace, though the invitation is the only thing burning there this early in the afternoon.
Perhaps she'll have one of the help lay a fire this evening. Best to cover even the ashes of such an embarrassing reminder of her failures. She is eternally grateful for Lone Raven and Associates, the premier law firm of Scortoni Town for finding the legal loopholes allowing her to forever disinherit that branch of the family.
The trail of her silk gown rustles against the Persian rugs as she turns to leave the study, and it slides silently up the marble staircase in the foyer as she ascends to the second floor drawing room. The late afternoon sun illuminates the hundred acres of rolling hills that she owns, and Katriel sighs happily. Only yesterday she'd received a letter from the orphanage that once owned a parcel of the acreage. In the letter, the director had pleaded, appealing to Katriel's better nature to convince her that the children would be turned out onto the streets if her plans to destroy the building to place her koi ponds were to continue.
Katriel reclines on a settee, opens a copy of Koi Weekly, and uses shreds from the orphanage's letter to bookmark her favorite varieties.
Perhaps she'll have one of the help lay a fire this evening. Best to cover even the ashes of such an embarrassing reminder of her failures. She is eternally grateful for Lone Raven and Associates, the premier law firm of Scortoni Town for finding the legal loopholes allowing her to forever disinherit that branch of the family.
The trail of her silk gown rustles against the Persian rugs as she turns to leave the study, and it slides silently up the marble staircase in the foyer as she ascends to the second floor drawing room. The late afternoon sun illuminates the hundred acres of rolling hills that she owns, and Katriel sighs happily. Only yesterday she'd received a letter from the orphanage that once owned a parcel of the acreage. In the letter, the director had pleaded, appealing to Katriel's better nature to convince her that the children would be turned out onto the streets if her plans to destroy the building to place her koi ponds were to continue.
Katriel reclines on a settee, opens a copy of Koi Weekly, and uses shreds from the orphanage's letter to bookmark her favorite varieties.